On The Darker Side
by Mewsman
Summary: Harry didn't grow up with the Dursley's like Dumbledore wanted. Instead he grew up in the same Orphanage Voldemort did. Will history repeat itself? Featuring a Dark!Harry with Evil tendencies, there is no doubt he is Slytherin and is all for the Pureblood philosophy when he finds out his mother's heritage.
1. Chapter 1

Dumbledore was not a happy camper. Here he had believed Harry lived with his relatives, safe under blood wards.

Luckily he had looked over the letters before they were being sent, and saw to his horror that Harry's letter was addressed to Wool's Orphanage in London. Wool's Orphanage! Did they not know..

Oh well, nothing to do about it now.

He walked up the few steps that led to the front door, and knocked once. It didn't take long before it was answered.

"Good afternoon" Dumbledore said. "I have an appointment with a Mrs. Cole, who, I believe, is the matron here?" The words echoed in his mind.

The lithe girl looked at him curiously for a moment, before spinning in spot and bellowing; "MRS. COLE!"

Someone in the distance answered, and she turned back and said "Come on in, she's coming now."

Dumbledore stepped inside, taking in the familiar sight. It hadn't changed much in fifty years; Still shabby but not dirty, it WAS clean.

The girl ran up some stairs, and just a moment later a skinny, anxious looking woman came scurrying towards him, her face sharply featured.

Her eyes fell on Dumbledore, looking just as astonished as the old matron had.

"Good afternoon", said Dumbledore, holding out his hand. Mrs. Cole slowly shook it, looking uncertain.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore, I believe we had an appointment today?"

Mrs. Cole seemed to snap back, and feebly stuttered "Oh yes, we did. Well – well then – you'd better come into my office then."

She lead Dumbledore into a small room that seemed part sitting room, part office. It wasn't quite as shabby as the hallway, and some of the furniture seemed reasonably new.

She sat down behind a large desk, leaving Dumbledore to sit on a rickety old chair that should have been replaced fifty years ago.

"I am here, as I told you, to discuss Harry Potter and arrangements for his future", Dumbledore told her, wondering just why he used the same words he had back then.

"And how do you know Potter? Is he family?"

"No, I am a teacher", said Dumbledore. "I have come to offer Harry a place at my school."

"And what kind of school is this, then?"

"It is called Hogwarts," Dumbledore replied calmly.

"How come you're interested in Potter, then?"

"We believe he has qualities we are looking for."

"Do you mean a scholarship? How so? He has never been entered for one."

Mrs. Cole seemed slightly suspicious, and Dumbledore prepared himself to confund her.

"Have you been at this Orphanage before, Mr. Dumbledore?" she asked.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I have. How did you guess?"

"You seemed familiar with the place, and I remember my grandmother.."

"Your Grandmother?" Dumbledore asked, seemingly interested.

"Yes, she was the matron of the Orphanage back in the days. She died when I was still fairly young, of old age, according to the doctors. We just found her dead one day, and the doctors found no cause of death.. I heard some them muttering about the likeness to a family that also died that way, what was it, the Riddles?"

"Ah yes, the Riddles of Little Hangleton, am I right?"

"Yes, that would be it. Anyways, she told me about this Dumbledore fella that came to the Orphanage one day to offer a place at his school to one young child, she would not say his name, however, and we didn't push it."

"That would be me. Now.."

"What was his name? The child, I mean. And what became of him?"

Dumbledore frowned slightly, contemplating wheter on not to tell her. Ah, it couldn't hurt.

"His name was Tom Riddle. He was a very.."

"Riddle? As the family you just mentioned?"

The matron was inconveniently sharp, putting the pieces together. Maybe he shouldn't have told her anyways. Ah, it could not hurt, _Obliviate _didn't take long to cast.

"I do not know if they were related, Mrs. Cole. Now, he was a very successfull student at my school, graduating with the highest scores. He got himself a goverment job, I heard, but he died eleven years ago."

"Oh." Mrs. Cole didn't seem happy with the little Dumbledore did tell, but he had other things to do than spending his time talking to a muggle.

"Well, back to young Harry, I was wondering if you could tell me anything of his history? And when he came here?"

"Ah, young Potter. Well, if I'm not mistaken, he came here ten years ago, a few days after Halloween. We found him on the stairs one morning, and since no family ever came he's been here ever since."

Mrs. Cole suddenly leaned down and retrieved a bottle and two glasses from her desk. She filled both, and took herself a generous gulp. Dumbledore didn't touch his glass.

"He's a funny boy." she said just as suddenly.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "I tought he might be."

"He was like that as a baby too. Can't remember him crying.. And when he got older, he became.. odd."

"Odd? How so" Dumbledore asked carefully, afraid to misstep.

"Well,"

But Mrs. Cole stopped, and stared directly at him. "_Uh oh, this can't be good"_

"He is secured a place at your school?" she asked.

"Of course, I just told you."

"There is nothing that can change that?"

"Absolutely nothing." Dumbledore's face betrayed none of the emotions and thoughts inside his head. This was NOT good!

"Are you absolutely certain?"

"Completely." Dumbledore finished gravely.

She kept her stare, seemingly deciding wheter or not to trust him. It seems like she did, because she suddenly spurted "He scares the other children."

"So he is a bully, then?"

"I suppose so," she frowned, "but he has never been caught. Things have happened. Nasty things.."

For an observant observer slight panic would be visible deep in Dumbledore's eyes. But that was not a description of Mrs. Cole.

"Timmy's cat was found inside the water-tank, but it is never left open, and there isn't a way for a cat to get in.. It couldnt have entered itself."

Dumbledore nodded slightly, forcing himself not to frown.

"All I know is that the day before Potter found a snake out in the back, which curiously enough didn't seem hostile, and Potter seemed to like it. It has to have been the only emotion I ever saw that boy show. But then Timmy, who is a, well, a bully, threw this large rock, and it hit the snake. It was just a small Garden Snake, you see, and it got smashed.

Next thing Timmy's cat is drowned and Timmy himself was seemingly so upset he fell down the stairs and broke both his legs."

"Ah, I'm sure Harry didn't have anything to do with it. Surely just an accident. Maybe one of the kids wanted to give the cat a bath." But Dumbledore doubten even the now slightly drunk matron believed his words, he surely didn't himself.

"Where there any other happenings?"

"Well, we have kept our tradition with outings, we've done that since Wool's opened back in the mid Eighteen Hundred's, and a few years ago we went to this beautiful forest, full of wildlife and animals. A reservoair, if I remember correctly. I should have known trouble was coming, for the day before one of the children told me Dennis took Potter's book, and ripped it apart. But Potter hadn't retaliated against Dennis, which, of course, was much stronger. Potter is quite small, not you're typical bully."

"No, I wouldn't expect so." His mind was racing. This couldn't be happening, could it?

"And then, when the bus stopped and Potter came out, Dennis was waiting and pushed him into the mud. If looks could kill, Dumbledore, if looks could kill."

"Dennis doesn't seem like a pleasant person." At this Mrs. Cole flinched, and Dumbledore suddenly got a very bad feeling.

"After lunch the kids went off to explore.. I woulda guessed Potter would stay behind and read or something, but he went with them. Some time later Jenna came running back, shouting about Dennis. We ran to help, and found that Dennis had fallen into a hole, which was absolutely swimming with snakes! I tell you, I have not seen that many in a zoo. We could not get him out in time, and he died. Jenna told us, fearfully, that she did not see Potter when Dennis fell, but I could tell there was something.."

"But nothing was ever proven, yes?"

"No, no.. Well, I suppose you would want to see him?"

"Very much" Dumbledore replied, and rose from his chair.

Walking up to the second landing, she stopped outside the first door in the corridor. "Here we are", she said, and knocked twice before entering.

"Potter? There is a visitor for you, one Mister Dumbledore. He will tell you what he's here for."

Dumbledore entered, and Mrs. Cole closed the door behind him. The room was small, with nothing but a dusty wardrobe, a iron bed and a desk that had seen it's better days.

Then his gaze landed on Harry. He had expected a miniature James with Lily's eyes, and he was _nearly _that.

Harry's hair was much more flat and formal than James's had been, and his eyes were much more dull. His face was also different than what was expected, his cheekbones higher, giving him a pureblood vibe.

"Good afternoon, Harry" Dumbledore smiled, walking forward and holding out his hand.

The boy, Harry, hesititated for a moment before shaking it. Dumbledore took the chair from the desk and sat down next to Harry,

"My name is Professor Dumbledore."

"Professor? You're here to take me in, aren't you? Dissect me, kill me? Get rid of the freaks, for the greater good?"

Dumbledore was stunned for a moment. He was even more distrusting than Riddle had been! And where did that last part come from?

Your Mind.

His Occlumency-shields clamped up faster than you could say Quidditch, and he was truly shocked. The child was a natural legilimens, and knew how to utilise it!

"Tell the truth!"

The force in those words shocked Dumbledore to his very core. He would never admit it, but he nearly gave in to the command.

"No, I am not here to take you. I am a professor at a school called Hogwarts, and I'm here to offer you a place there."

Harry's distrust was obvious, and he decided to keep explaining before he was accused for other things. Like being from the Asylum.

"Hogwarts is a school for people with special abilities-''

"So your from the mad-house, then?"

"No, I'm not. Hogwarts is not a mad-house. Hogwarts is a wizarding school.

Harry's expression froze immediatly. "Magic?" he whispered.

"That's right." Dumbledore smiled warmly.

"So it's magic, the things I can do, then?

"What are these things you can do?"

"Anything. I can make things move, or force animals to do my bidding. I can make bad things happen to people. If I want, I can hurt them."

Silence. Dumbledore's outside was as calm as always, but inside! How could the Dursley's possibly do such a thing! He had clearly stated the importance of him staying. But they had dumped him at an orphanage, THIS orphanage, and look what had happened. He would have to do everything in his power to prevent history from repeating itself, like it was so fond of doing.

"So, are you a, a wizard as well, then?"

"Indeed I am," Dumbledore answered sincerely.

"Prove it." His voice was commanding, unrelenting. "Tell the truth."

And Dumbledore whipped out his wand and set the wardrobe ablaze. Harry jumped of the bed and howled in anger, seemingly ready to murder, when the flames dissapeared. But there was a faint rattling inside the wardrobe.

"It seems like something is trying to get out." Dumbledore said, finally showing a faint frown. Why had he given in? When Tom had done it he had dressed him down, but when Harry did it..

Harry did not show any of the fear Tom had shown when this happened to him. He opened the door. There it was, a small box rattling.

"Take it out."

Harry took the box, and held it carefully, like it was of great value.

"Is there anything in the box you should not have?" Dumbledore asked, strictly.

"No, sir."

"Then open it."

Harry lifted the lid, and tipped the box. Nothing came out.

"See? It's just an empty box."

"I see." Dumbledore answered. He was conflicted, he had just willed the box to rattle, not what was inside. What if Harry never did steal anything? Or was he skilled enough to _dissapear _items just by willing it?

Dumbledore shook his head at the irony of the situation, before pulling out a heavy parchment envelope.

"Here is the information that is usually sent out, including a list of required items. If you have any questions, you should ask them now." He smiled, hoping to stay on Harry's friendly side, he couldn't risk Harry distrusting him. That would be catastrophal.

"Usually sent out, sir?" Harry asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yes, this is the letter sent to half-bloods and purebloods, the Deputy Headmistress personally visits the muggleborn students to inform them about the magical world. You cannot explain such a wonderfull thing in a letter and think that they will believe you."

"Half-bloods and purebloods? Muggleborn? What does those phrases mean?" he asked straightforward, no reluctance in his voice. "I'm going to have to learn as much as possible of this new world, and this is a splendid opportunity to gain some knowledge" He didn't say the last sentence out loud, of course, it just ran through his head while he looked expectantly at the old Headmaster.

"Muggleborn are wizards with muggle's, that is non-magical people, as parents. Half-bloods have a magical parents, while to be Pureblood you need atleast both of your grandparents to be wizards as well. That is the official requirements for being a Pureblood, but noone that only stretches back two generations talks much about it. The families that pride themselves in being Pureblood are mostly tenfolds of generations old."

"And I, what am I? Muggleborn?"

"You are a half-blood, your father was from the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, while your mother was a muggleborn. Now, I think you should read the letter and see if..."

"You knew my parents, then?" Harry had a hopefull look in his eyes, something that delighted Dumbledore more than you can ever imagine.

"Indeed I did, they were both students of mine. James Potter, a protege in Transfiguration and one of the worst pranksters the world has ever seen. Always up to mischief, although he did pull himself together in his seventh year when he finally got together with Lily, whom was a protege in Charms and one of the most intelligent and skillfull witches I have ever seen. It was a sad day for the wizarding world when they died."

Harry leaned back against the wall and eyed Dumbledore with a superior look before speaking again.

"I see. I will get to reading, then, if you don't mind." Dumbledore merely nodded, and Harry ripped open the envelope and pulled out the parchment.

"Mhm, yes, okay. Sir, what do they mean by expecting my owl?" He looked slightly confused. They couldn't possibly be so medieval they still used owlpost, could they?

"Normally you would send answer if you would indeed accept your invitation to Hogwarts, but you will not need to this, obviously."

So they did use owls. Interesting.

"There seems to be a slight problem though, sir." Harry said, reluctance audible in his voice.

"Oh, and what would that be?" asked Dumbledore, leaning slightly forward in the chair he had previously conjured, a slight frown visible on his face.

"I have no money, sir." Harry sounded sad, no angry, at the fact. He did not appreciate being poor, but who did?

"That will be no problem, Harry. The school got a trust-found but you, as the heir of the Ancient Potter family got a trust-vault in Gringotts containing more than enough for your education, and upon your seventeenth birthday you will get access to the Potter vaults. Even if you slouch of and live of your ancestors for your entire life you should not be lacking." Why did I tell him that? Wasn't the plan to only tell him off his trust-vault and keep intercepting the mail from Gringotts? Dumbledore's frown deepened as he chastised himself for revealing to much. The boy seemed to have this effect on him. Curious.

"Is that so.. Shouldn't I have been informed of this earlier? Untill now my clothes have all been second-handed, and I would prefer some clothes of my own... I suspect Gringotts is a bank, judging by you speaking of Vaults, will they have a way to recognise me or will I have to need papers?"

"The Goblins" Harry managed to hide his interest at the mention of another race of creatures here, "have ways to recognise the owner of Vaults, but you usually bring your vault key. Infact, I got the key for your Trust Vault right here. And now that you reminded me..."

"You got my key, sir? Shouldn't that have been given to me? And why would you have it, no offence sir, but aren't you just the headmaster of the school? I see no reason you would have my key."

"Muggleborns, and magical orphans, are granted a magical guardian in the Wizarding World. This is for orphans often some friend of the family, and for muggleborns it's usually an official. I was a personal friend of your parents and they thus choose me as your magical guardian if something would happen to them. I personally delivered you at your aunt and uncle, which are muggles, but it seems your aunt's jealousy of her sister has not decreased over the years, and she wanted nothing to do with her nephew. I had hoped they would take you in and raise you as theyr own, but alas, it seems that is not to be."

"Aha.. You were saying something before I so rudely interrupted you, sir?" The word rudely sounded mightly sarcastic to Dumbledore, but he could not be sure if the young one was mocking him. Oh, look at the clock, he should be going soon. He'd have to wrap up his tale and get back to Hogwarts rather quickly.

"I will have to leave you soon Harry, so please do not interrupt anymore." The boy nodded, once, a smirk melting off his face. "I suspect I will have to start at the beggining. Around twenty years ago, a very powerfull wizard that had fallen to the dark arts started gathering followers. He was a strong believer in the Pureblood Philosophy, which is common among purebloods, the believers in this philosophy thinks themselves superior to muggleborn, muggles and halfbloods. The most extreme view muggles as mere animals, some even went far enough to petition muggles to be classified as beasts. As I was saying, he gathered followers amongst the believers of this philosophy, and killed those that opposed him. He seemed invincible, and it was a time of fear, and by the time the eigthies came around not many still opposed him. I myself was the leader of the forces that stood against him, but.."

"What was his name, sir? The Dark Wizard, I mean."

"His birthname was Tom Riddle. I do not know to much of his childhood, but I know he grew up in this very orphanage. This leads me to suspect he might be halfblood himself, and nothing more than a hypocrite. This might very well be the reason he found himself another name, a name to bring fear and hide his origin. He called himself Voldemort, and to this day wizards speak not his name out of fear, and call him He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who."

Harry closed his eyes, deep in thoughts, a heavy frown upon his face. Dumbledore merely sighed and continued his story.

"As I was saying, there seemed to be no hope. He was to powerfull for anyone to stop him and he seemed to be taking over everything. Then a pr.. Then he targeted your parents, which were both opposers and stout supporters of the Light side. They went into hiding, using advanced magic that hid the location of theyr home inside someone else, so Voldemort could..."

"Sir, did you not say that people fear his name, and refer to him as You-Know-Who?"

"Indeed I did, Harry, most people do. I however, say that fear of the name increases the fear of the thing itself, and refuse to call him by that. Whenever I was unlucky enough to face him I used his birthname, but to avoid confusion I used his personal nickname when talking to those lucky enough not to know much of his dark past."

Dumbledore took another long glance at his weird watch, and flicked his wand. Something silver flew out of it, dissapearing into the wall.

"A simple message spell." he explained. "Now, I have to finish my story and get going. Your father choose his best friend, and your godfather, to keep the secret. His name was Sirius Black, before you ask. They then went into hiding, but mere months after, on Halloween Eve, Voldemort came to your home and murdered your parents.

He then turned his wand upon you, lying in your crib, and cast the Killing Curse, an unblockable curse that instantly kills. It is one of the darkest of curses known to man.

Now then, happened something that have never happened before. His unblockable spell of death did not kill you, but merely gave you a most curious scar, but he was destroyed, his body turned to ashes and his spirit vanquished.

The whole wizarding world knows of this, and hail you as a savior. You should keep your head down, hooded if possible, so you do not get mobbed in the streets. I know whatever I do not explain you will ask for, so before you question me, Sirius Black fled when his master died, but another of your father's friends, Peter Pettigrew, traced him and cornered him in a street in a muggle city.

This turned out to be a mistake, however, no matter how goodhearted Peter was, he was never much of an duelist, and Black blew him to smithereens along with a dozing muggles with a single spells. The Aurors, that is our law enforcement, arrived not long after, but Black did not even put up a fight, he merely laughed as they took him away. He was thrown in Azkaban, that is our jail, for life."

"This is very interesting news, sir. I cannot but wonder if I should have been told of this earlier, so I could have readied myself for the fame I am recieving?"

"The Dursley's, that is, your aunt and uncle, was informed of your fame, but I asked them not to tell you before you were going to Hogwarts, so you would not grow up thinking you were better than everyone. Now, you will find a pub called The Leaky Cauldron in Charing Cross Road. The muggles will not be able to see it, but you will. You will find Gringotts easily enough, it is the large towering marble building. I must also advice you not to enter Knockturn Alley, as the people there might very well do you harm. There are still followers of the Dark Lord around, claiming to be under the Imperius, that is a mind control curse, having been freed when he fell. Of course, bribes helped make important people believe in this. Now, you should ask the innkeeper, Tom, to open the gateway for you, as you need a wand to do it. Retrieving money should be simple, and you already have a list of supplies. Good. I think that was all there is, I will see you at Hogwarts, I hope, Mister Potter."

"You will undoubtly see me there, sir. One more question before you go, if I may?"

"Of course Harry. What is it you are wondering?"

"How will I get to the school? Will someone pick me up, or will I have to go somewhere? Do I have to get there myself, in that case, where is it?"

"Ah yes, It's good you reminded me. The school is infact in Scotland. You will get there by train from King's Cross. You do not need a ticket to ride the train. It goes from platform 9 ¾ , eleven'o'clock sharp. There is a stone wall between platform 9 and 10, just walk into it when the muggles are not watching. It has of course been charmed to avoid attention, but still, be carefull, will you?"

"Of course, sir. I guess I should call you headmaster now. That would be all then, and I will see you in school."

"Indeed you will Harry, indeed you will"

And with a crack, the Headmaster was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys! (And gals? Eh?) This is my first attempt at fanfiction, and I hope you enjoy it. My native language is not english so I must apologize for any errors that might sneak past my hawken eyes, as I do not have a beta, and I don't think I would look for one either, as I much prefer to work on my own, even if it results in a few errors here and there. Reviews make me happy and each one saves a bunny in dire need, so I would suggest to get to it! :D I'm going to keep the AN's short or non-existent from nowon, just wanted a little hello world note here. I am aware that this chapter is on the shorter side, and the A/N is a bit long. I am very sorry.**

**Thanks to a Guest for this extra long A/N:**

**"Good start, Voldemort will without doubt see himself in Harry." **_That was my plan all along._

**"Which is great, imagine what Voldemort could have done with a mentor!" **_I was infact plotting to have two opposing evil factions, Harry and most of the younger ones for a true pureblood faction without pointless mugglekilling and focusing on the important things, but this review shook up something deep inside._

**"Harry/Bellatrix would be rather perfect pairing. Since she can't have Voldemort, she can have Harry."**

_This is the line I read while eating the most delicious steak covered in bearnaise with roast potatoes. This is the line that made the original plan for this fic crumble and burn. I got so many great ideas from this single line, I can never thank you enough. I have never read what I plan to do before, so I do hope I might actually write a slightly original fanfiction._

_Harry and Tom might be allies after all. Bellatrix might get a large role after all. Thank you so much, Guest, I love you forever and ever._

**Quick answer to Snakefang93: He was going to meet a 11 year old muggle raised child and probably 1 or 2 muggles. Did you think he had his guard up? Especially alone with Harry? He easily blocked him once he realised what was happening :) Dumbledore is still OP.**

**Little long A/N, just had to tell you all about the Steak Revelation!**

The next day was a perfect day to go shopping. The sun was shining brightly and there was not a cloud in sight, and Harry couldn't be happier for it. He had decided to go to the alley as fast as possible, after thinking over what Dumbledore had told him the day before he had realised that if the headmistress personally visited the muggleborn there could not be that many of them. That meant that most of his would-be classmates would probably know of magic, some of them might even have been tutored at home. Harry would not be one of the worst in his year just because he hadn't learned of magic earlier.

He arrived at the pub Dumbledore had spoken of at nine'o'clock in the morning, and entered, even if it looked like a pretty shabby place. Walking straight to the counter he was not afraid in the least of recognised, looking nothing like he did the day before. In the place of Harry Potter stood a brown haired boy with mild brown eyes. Nothing recognisable, noone you would remember.

Harry remembered every occurance of magic crystally clear, as it was the most important events of his life. He had thought himself special, better than all those fools at the orphanage. He could hurt them, he could even invade their inner sanctums, the mind.

It had been a day like any other when he woke up and found himself lacking large amounts of hair, and he didn't need to investigate to figure out someone had snuck in during the night and molested his hair. His hair! How could he possibly show himself looking like he had a bird's nest on his head?

No, he couldn't show himself, he had decided then. But he would go through every single mind, and when he found out who did it they would pay. His anger reached such a level over the fact that he had been outplayed that he did not notice the strange tingling feeling in his scalp as his hair returned to his previous state.

It would take hours before he noticed it, but he didn't let it go as a mere accident.

He immediatly started trying to change his hair again, focusing, trying to push a power he didn't even know how to control, but to no avail, all in all he motivated himself that it looked a few inches longer than before he began.

And then he left his room in search of the poor idiot that tried to one up him. He would pay.

It had taken years, but he had large control of his morphing, as he called it. He had taken to using it permanently, having his unruly hair lying flat and giving his face a more noble feel. It helped him feel above the crowd of useless pigs in the orphanage.

He would have to gather a large amount of books, as he would be damned if he didn't reach the top three in his classes. He was always the best, no matter what the situation was. He was the fastest runner, the strongest lifter in in the muggle school after he found out that his morphing abilities allowed him to grow his muscles and increase his lung capacity. Noone could even get close to his level of skill, and the instructors couldn't even figure out why. Fools, he sneered to himself, the nasty emotions he felt showing on his face for a second before he put on his blank mask once more.

"Hello there, sir, could I perhaps ask you for a favor?"

"Ask away youngling!" the toothless, bald man answered with a horrible grin that would have left him shuddering if he allowed his emotions to show.

He forced himself to a smile that would be taken as a real one, hopefully, and asked as childishly as he possibly could;

"I need to get into the Alley, but I'dont have a wand, ya see, and.." Tom, as he was called, broadened his smile increasing it from creepy and disgusting to absolutely horrendous and macabre, and nodded violently.

"Jus' follow me, and I'll get ya through real fast. Trust Tom to get'e job done in a wiffy."

He was limping quite clearly, and his back was no more than a single hump. "_A wreck of a man. I wonder why he hasn't gone of with pension yet. He looks like he is a good ninety years of age.. Wouldn't trust him with anything important, that's for sure. And in a fight, hah, a toddler could beat him. Hm, that's not fair, it seems Wizarding Toddler's are exceptionally strong, just look at my own acomplishments as a doddling toddler. It's a strange strange world."_

Harry was very glad to escape the foul-looking innkeeper and enter Diagon Alley. And what a sight it was!

He had to excuse himself for the pun, but the first thought that sprung to mind was the good old "_It's like a whole new world!_". He allowed himself a real smile as he looked upon the Alley, crowded with Wizard's and Witches. Not a muggle in sight, just as it should be.

And then the sounds and smells hit him like a solid wall accelerating at a high velocity.

Haggling between shopkeepers and customers, owl's hooting from the Emporeum, sounds like a zoo from something that looked like a petshop, the smell of books and icecream and scat and potions and guts and rotting eyes of newt, leather and broomsticks, more smells than he could possibly take in all at once, and it completely overwhelmed him and made his head spin. For a brief moment of happy glee he once again felt like a child new to the world, but it just took him a few seconds to gather and return to his old self.

_Shopping later, Gringotts first._

Squinting, he managed to see the large marble building the Headmaster had explained at the end of the road. He quickly set off at a brisk pace, sparing not a glance at all the kinds of people he passed by as he walked through one of the centers of Wizarding Britain. He was very glad he had decided to take the Headmaster's suggestion seriously and disguises himself, if someone had recognised him and shouted out in this packed street he would be busy signing autograph's for the common-folk for hours. He didn't really know if Wizard's cared about the whole autograph thing, but he would rather prefer not knowing. "_I just need to get my hands on some of my OWN money, and get myself some new clothes. These hand-me-off's are a shame to walk around in, maybe so much of a disgrace that I should never again take this form. Hrmph. Oh, look, I am here. These goblins do know how to make an impression, I must give them that, armed guards with SPEARS! Oh, it's laughable that they carry spears and the rest of the alley, even the old, sickly and the children, carry sticks a thousand times more dangerous. Maybe they cant use magic? I wonder why... I should find out why that is. Note to self: Pick up some books on Goblins."_

Looking up, he saw the huge burnished bronze doors standing tall on top of the white marble stairs. "_It quite possible radiates of richness_" Harry thought, wondering just how wonderfully the bank must look on the inside. With an exterior as impressing as this floors made out of Diamond would come to no surprise. Heck, maybe diamonds were worth less than coal here, he clearly remembered Dumbledore conjuring a chair, and if you could conjure a chair you could possibly conjure valuables. It would remain to be seen, that.

As he climbed the stairs the huge door's opened in front of his eyes, it might make an impression on the muggleborn, but Harry had already seen far more impressive magic than door's opening themselves. It couldn't be that hard to do such a thing, could it?

He gasped, he just couldn't hold it in. He had entered a entrance hall of massive proportions, it must be a hundred feets between the doors he had just entered, which coincidentally slammed shut behind him, to the even larger silver door's glazing in the light of dozens of chandeliers. Upon the door's a text was inscribed with letters seemingly made out of gold, large enough to read from even this far away.

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_'Of what awaits the sin of greed_

_'For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_'So if you seek beneath our floors_

_'A treasure that was never yours,_

_'Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_'Of finding more than treasure there._

"_Ah, they try to scare off potentional thieves with a rhyme implying danger. It might stop the average schoolboy from stealing a penny, but if you want to rob the place a silly little rhyme wouldn't even make you think twice." _It did sound omnious though, and Harry felt no urge to test the defences of this seemingly ancient bank against his powerful might of.. What could he do, really? He could hurt someone if he wanted to, and it seemed to hurt pretty badly. It might just be that the filthy muggle's had no pain tolerance whatsoever, however. He could change his appearance at will, without a second thought. He had done more, but he had no idea how to control it. The sudden winds that pushed that murderer down the stairs had appeared without warning, summoned by his anger, atleast so it seemed. Levitating the cat was also something done impulsively that he wasn't able to reproduce during his testing. And he knew for a fact he had no chance of doing what he did to Dennis again, that seemed to happen all of his own. The earth melting into a hole, the snakes appearing out of thin air, the stupid bully walking into the hole, like one of the, what was it called again? He had seen them once when he snuck into a theater... A zombie, that was it! "_I wonder if the Wizarding World actually has zombies. With what I've seen so far it wouldn't be unlikely. I'll have to aquire books on magical beasts as well then. Oh, who am I kidding, I was planning all along to get books for everything. According to Dumbledore my Trust Vault is large and my other Vault's will last me for life. Or maybe they won't._" He barely managed to contain the evil cackle, as it would seem highly suspicious if he suddenly started cackling while staring at the rhyme.

The little boy strode forward then, and the magnificent door's opened before his eyes. Inside lay Gringotts itself;

The polished marble floor shone like a mirror, either due to magic or minutely polishes. Pillars of sparkling white limestone rose to the roof far above, and that was crowned with a dome of the purest of glass, or perhaps even crystal!

Vines of gold and silver decorated the pillars, and slabs of precious metals made the teller-desk's dazzle like the table of king's. Behind these works of art of unimaginable value sat Teller's weighing fiery rubies the size of eggs like it was an hourly matter, and some studied gold and some studied silver. All in all it was an amazing experience that awed even the usually cold Harry, his frozen mask thawing as his jaw fell and his eyes reflected the riches of the goblins.

Wasting no more time than he already had, Harry walked up to a free teller, having already wiped the awestruck experssion off his face. Not knowing how to address a Goblin, he fell back upon common courtesy.

"Hello sir, I would like to withdraw funds from my vault. I will also need to talk to someone about a variety of question I may have about how things work."

Harry saw it, and the Goblin knew it, it had not managed to hide it's shock to being talked to in a polite manner fast enough to avoid the youngling human's attention.

"And your name is?" the Goblin's voice was raspy, but also quite light, resulting in a voice that would rather fit to a scrawny old man on his deathbed after a long life of smoking many a pack aday.

"Harry James Potter" the youngling answered, rearranging his face into the face of a Potter, scar and all, before once again settling down. "I'm here in disguise to avoid getting mobbed." he added as an explanation, even if the goblin was very much intelligent and had managed to figure out as much on it's own.

"Very well... Do you have.. your key?" It took the poor creature much longer than it should to croak out the short sentence. Harry sighed inwardly, knowing that conversing with this goblin would be very tiresome. "_Always my luck, isn't it, finding the slowest speaking goblin in Gringotts? I'll be stuck here for hours if he can answer" _but here he was ripped out of his line of thought as another goblin, with alot more bounce in his step, approached the two of them.

"This here... Is Griphook. He will take you... to your vault. Afterwards he will... show you to the Potter.. Accountant."

"Thank you, sir" Harry answered sincerly. The boy had apparently taken a liking to the goblins, not the usual hate and disgust most of the wizards showed them. _"Atleast, that is what they will think of me. I would do good not to offend the creatures that deal with the economy, that would be a very bad move. I will keep up my act and hopefully it will pay off in the end."_

The cartride to down to his trust-vault seemed unnecessary steep and twirly, but perhaps it was just to make potentional thieves lost. Who knew how the brain's of these little green goblin's work.

The Vault opened with a hiss, and Harry just couldn't for the life of him hold in the gasp. Gold, Silver, Bronze, piles of it, stacks of it, no, not stacks, mounds! That to would be an underestimation, it must certainly be mountains! Never before had he had so much money, more than he would ever dream to spend.

"I see you are confused, Mr. Potter. Let me explain the coins for you. The large golden once are Galleons, the silver ones are Sickles and the Bronze ones are Knuts. There are 17 Sickles a Galleon, and 29 Knuts in a Sickle.

Converting Goblin Currency to Muggle Currency follows the rate of £25 per Galleon."

Harry's eyes swept over the vault, now knowing that each of the golden coins was £25 seemed to be a quite overwhelming thought.

"I'm sorry to be a bother, Griphook, but is there a way for me to carry alot of money with me or subtract money from this Vault without going here every time?"

"There is indeed a Pouch of Gold that we do supply to the owner's of large vault's. With your other Vault's there is no doubt you got a fortune large enough to justify a Pouch, but since you can only access the Trust-Vault for a good six years it will be a tight cut. I will see if one can be delivered to you by the time you leave Gringott's after talking to the Accountant. You should take enough for your supplies just in case, so you do not have to go all the way back down here."

"_Ah, so there are indeed a way to easily retrieve money. I do hope I am supplied with one of these Pouches of Gold. It would be so very convenient. Oh, and I have to remember to get some Wizarding Currency transfered into Pounds. 500£ should suffice for a while, that is.. oh, my math doesn't want to work, does it? 500/25 equals.. 20 Galleons, of course. Whenever did I start to slouch off math?"_

Filling a normal pouch with the massive amount of 50 Galleons, and a bunch of lesser coins, he nodded at Griphook and they both got back into the cart. Soon a ugly little goblinoid creature and Harry Potter, the Savior of the Wizarding World, the Boy-Who-Lived, sped off towards the surface, carrying 1250£ for shopping. What a difference it would be to walk in the finest clothes and use the best of equipment, going from leftover text books and raggy second-hand clothes. "_It will be like heaven. And I plan to enjoy it to it's fullest._"

Rejoycing when they finally arrived at the surface, Harry followed the goblin deeper into the halls of Gringotts, still marvelling at the marble, the gold and silver and all the other completely unnecessesary decoration's that simply screamed "We are extremely rich, come rob us!".

Finally they arrived at a door with a golden sign hanging on it. Riptooth, it said in intricate silver letter's.

"Here you are Mr. Potter. Riptooth will signal me when you are done so I can lead you back out and deliver you the Pouch if you can indeed get one."

"Thank you Griphook. You have been very helpful to me today."

Griphook nodded and walked away, and Harry quickly morphed back into his normal body again, putting on his mask of stonefacyness, and knocked twice.


End file.
